


Letters From The Past

by Mellow (SweetCandy)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Chris/Peter/Stiles Relationship in later chapters, Endgame Chris Argent/Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Love Letters, M/M, Married Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Mates Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Past Relationship(s), Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Star-crossed, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:34:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25086979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetCandy/pseuds/Mellow
Summary: Stiles closed his hands around the necklace and inspected the round pendant. A wolfsbane flower was imprinted in the centre and his heart skipped a beat. He had seen a necklace just like this before, worn not by a hunter but a huntress.With shaking fingers, he turned the pendant in his fingers and felt as if he couldn’t breathe. The initials engraved into the stainless silver burned themselves into his mind.C.A.Christopher Argent.Peter’s first mate had been Christopher Argent, heir to one of the oldest hunter families in the world. No wonder they had considered themselves star crossed lovers. No wonder they never got their happy end._Or: Stiles had just wanted to put some of their wedding gifts into the attic, he hadn't planned to stumble across a chest filled with love letters addressed to his husband. And he certainly hadn't planned on falling in love with the man who wrote them.
Relationships: Chris Argent/Peter Hale, Chris Argent/Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore, Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes
Comments: 27
Kudos: 213





	Letters From The Past

**Author's Note:**

> I really shouldn't start writing something new, but this idea popped up and I just had to write it down.
> 
> Star crossed lovers, love letters and a poly relationship, with a guaranteed happy end. What else could we ask for?
> 
> Hopefully, you'll enjoy it!

Like so many things with their relationship, it happened completely by accident. Sometimes Stiles wondered if their romance was just one coincidence connected to another that had somehow brought them to this point.

This point being Stiles and Peter rustling through all the wedding presents they had yet to open. They were both tanned from their 2 months long honeymoon in Europe, where they -surprisingly- hadn’t spent the whole time having sex, but instead had gone sightseeing and explored the different cultures. They had started in Finland, worked their way down through Denmark, Germany, Belgium, France and -after a quick detour through Switzerland- they had ended up at the Mediterranean sea, where they had spent two weeks laying at the beach, sipping wine and basking in the sun. They had tried having sex at the beach exactly once, after which they had sworn to never do it again because they had felt sand chafing areas that shouldn’t even chafe in the first place for _days_.

Since they had left immediately after the reception, the pack had collected all their wedding presents and put them in the sleek, modern house in the preserve Stiles and Peter called their own. Peter had bought it for them shortly before Stiles graduated from Stanford and they had moved into it the day after the spark had collected his degree. After two years of living in each other’s company, they had finally decided to get hitched and were now living in married bliss.

The pack had flourished in the last few years. Beacon Hills had calmed down, supernatural threats were a rarity these days, Erica and Boyd had welcomed their daughter into the world, Isaac had spread his wings for a while and studied in Canada for one year before he moved back to California to finish his child psychology degree closer to Beacon Hills, Cora had returned from South America -much to the delight of Derek-, Jackson and Lydia had moved to the UK where they were currently raising their own little brat, Scott had finally made peace with his wolfy status and was officially part of the Hale pack, and Derek had taken expertly to the role as Hale Alpha and spent his days doting on Erica and Boyd’s daughter.

To the relief of everyone, he had decided to stay away from relationship for now, but based on the glances he and Isaac exchanged and how the Alpha had begrudgingly asked his beta for a dance at Peter and Stiles’ wedding – which might or might not have turned into the two of them slow dancing because the DJ had somehow chosen the play a truly cheesy and disgustingly romantic song, which Peter and Stiles definitely had nothing to do with- it was obvious to anyone that they soon would have another couple in the pack.

“I can’t believe how many presents we got.” Stiles groaned, as he unwrapped the last box, just to find a set of silverware. He sighed and tossed the wrapping paper aside before inspecting the present closer. The spark had no idea why anybody thought giving them silverware was a good idea, especially considering that he was married to a presumptuous, nauseatingly rich werewolf who already owned a set of silverware that was worth more than a medium sized car.

“You wanted to invite half of Poland for our wedding, my dear.” Peter reminded him gently, while he gathered the oven mittens and juicer they had gotten from one of Stiles’ distant aunts. “I wanted a small reception.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and got to his feet as well. He picked up the box of silverware, almost pulling his back in the process, because it came in a heavy wooden chest and sent Peter a long-suffering glare. “If my babcia had found out that I got hitched without inviting her, she would’ve hit me with a carpet beater.”

The wolf snorted and took the heavy box from Stiles, who in return carried the juicer and the truly hideous oven mittens. They put all the presents they had no use for or which they found absolutely atrocious -and there were a lot of atrocious ones, Stiles’ Polish relatives had left them ridiculously corny wedding presents- into the attic until they knew what to do with them. Peter wanted to donate as much as possible, while Stiles wanted to keep everything out of fear that one of his barely English speaking relatives could one day show up at their doorstep and ask about the cheesy ceramic teapot they had given Peter and Stiles.

The attic was right above the third floor and comparably small to the rest of the house. They only stored a few things up here, everything else was locked away at a warehouse or at the Sheriff’s place because John Stilinski kept Stiles’ room just like it had been the day his son had moved into the college dorms. As tough as the Sheriff was, he loved his son more than anything.

Most of the boxes gathering dust in the attic belonged to Peter and contained pre-fire items that Stiles didn’t dare to touch, even now that they were married and about to celebrate their 4-year anniversary, just like Peter never asked about the cardboard box full of a woman’s summer dresses, that smelt slightly like Stiles and which his boyfriend snuck into their bedroom on the 16th October every year, where he would lock himself in and curl up with them in bed while watching old Disney re-runs, leaving Peter to sleep on the couch, feeling helpless with his wolf whining in his head how they couldn’t comfort their mate while he grieved.

“Three floors and 8 bathrooms, but an attic the size of my dorm room, I hate to break it to you, Peter, but the real estate agent ripped you off.” Stiles grunted as he scaled up the ladder leading into the attic, where he promptly banged his head against one of the wooden beams. He stumbled slightly and tripped over his own feet, tried to get a hold of himself and in the process knocked over a small stack of old boxes. They fell to the floor with a loud thump and Stiles winced when the claps of one of them broke.

“Shit!” He cursed and quickly kneeled down to gather everything up again before Peter could spot the mess he had made but flinched away when his hands touched the wooden chest. It was brimming with magic energy and covered in protective wards. Even the countless, ancient tomes Peter collected weren’t warded as good as this simple little box. Not even the new pack house or their own home had as many wards surrounding them, and Stiles had made sure to apply every single ward he had ever learnt.

But the magic wasn’t hostile, it was simply protective and when Stiles touched the box again, the wards allowed him to pick it up. The small clasp that kept the chest closed had been broken due to the fall and he winced at the damage. Carefully, he opened it, just to make sure that nothing else had been broken and frowned when he spotted just what the wards were protecting.

Letters. Countless letters carefully tucked into the wooden chest and obviously well taken care of. The envelopes had slightly yellowed with age and were frayed, almost as if someone had opened them to read their contents a hundred times over. Hesitantly, Stiles reached out to trace the frayed edges, but stopped just as his fingers were about to touch them.

These were clearly important to Peter. More important than anything else he owned -aside from the gifts Stiles had given him over their years together- and Stiles would never breach his husband’s privacy like this. He stared at the envelopes for a long couple of seconds, then he pulled his hand back and put it on top of the chest to close it.

“You can read them, if you want.” A voice said from his left and Stiles almost dropped the box. Peter had climbed into the attic as well, still carrying the set of silverware and was watching him with an unreadable expression. He didn’t seem bothered by Stiles’ discovery, but it was obvious that these letters were important.

“They’re yours. And they’re clearly important. I wouldn’t breach your privacy like this.” Stiles mumbled and put the box aside with a determined nod. As much as he was nosy, he knew when to stay away from something.

“Stiles, I promised you that I would keep nothing hidden from you, that there would be no secrets in our relationship. If you want to read them, you can.” Peter mumbled as he stacked the silverware on top of the box of a coffee machine Aunt Esther had given them. “Every chapter of my life is yours now as well and I want to share as much as I can with you.”

Stiles hesitated. On one hand, he was incredibly curious about the contents of the letters on the other hand he knew just how much it hurt to share precious memories with others. To this day, he had never allowed anybody to read the little half-finished recipe collection his mother had given him on one of her last lucid days, not even Peter who he trusted more than any other person in the world.

“No.” He decided eventually and got back on his feet, dusted his knees off and left the attic before he could change his mind. Peter followed him quietly, a curious expression on his face, almost as if he was trying out an especially complicated puzzle.

“If you change your mind-“ He started, but Stiles interrupted him.

“I won’t. Just because we’re married doesn’t mean I have a right to snoop through your things. You have always respected my boundaries with no questions asked, I will do the same for you.” The spark decided and that was the end of that.

-

Except it wasn’t. Now that he knew about the box, Stiles couldn’t focus on anything else. It seemed to call out for him, urging him to open it, luring him with the promises that he would get to know his husband even better if he just took a little peek at one of the many letters.

It got to the point where Stiles avoided going anywhere near the ladder that led to the attic and of course his boyfriend noticed. Peter was far too observant not to, but Stiles kept his word not to read them like the stubborn mule he was, even after Peter had once again given him permission to do so if he wanted.

Three days after he had first discovered the box, Stiles walked into their living room, returning from a quick trip to his father’s house to see him for the first time since their wedding, only to find his husband sitting on the couch, a glass of wine in his left hand and a book in the other. He was reading _The Odysseys_ from what Stiles could see and was dressed in his silken pyjamas and his favourite satin robe. Soft classical music was playing in the background, the lights had been dimmed and Stiles couldn’t help but smile at the relaxed picture his husband made.

He loved Peter like this, stripped of the sassy V-necks or the tight dress shirts, dressed comfortably and looking incredibly approachable and relaxed.

“How is your father?” Peter asked, closing the book after putting a bookmark into it and set it aside.

Stiles shrugged and sat down on the couch next to him, stealing the glass of wine out of his hand to take a sip. No wolfsbane, as always. “He’s fine. A bit torn because of his retirement next year. Part of him wants to retire before he’s forced to do so due to a stray bullet or the strain on his heart, but he hates it when he’s not needed and he worries that he might get a bit too familiar with the bottle again. When he does retire, we need to give him a grandchild to keep him on his toes.” Stiles snorted, but Peter simply hummed.

They had talked about children and had come to the conclusion that they both wanted at least one, maybe two but no more than three. They would prefer a surrogate over adoption because introducing a child to the supernatural world was difficult and trying to adopt a were was even harder. For now they planned on enjoying their married life, but in a year or two they wanted to take that step.

“If our little one will come after you, your father will regret ever wishing for grandchildren.” Peter teased, and Stiles grinned. At least that would keep his dad on his toes. “Will he come over for dinner on Sunday?” He asked and Stiles nodded. It had become a Hale-Stilinski family tradition to meet up for dinner every Sunday, which had started out because Stiles had wanted his father to approve of their relationship. At first the sheriff hadn’t been too ecstatic that his son had wanted to date a formerly murderous and insane and then resurrected and sane werewolf, but after 2 months of awkward family dinners, John had eventually warmed up to Peter and these days they got along fantastically.

“Yup. I promised him the famous Hale meatloaf.” Stiles smiled, as he cuddled against his husband’s side. He still couldn’t believe that Peter was his _husband_. He had won the fucking lottery when it came to hot spouses.

“I’ll use lean meat; it will be healthier for his heart.” Peter promised and sipped on his wine again.

“Thank you.” Stiles mumbled and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, before he got up from the couch again. “I’ll get changed into something more comfortable.” He mumbled, tugging at the jeans he wore and heard his husband hum in agreement. Slowly, Stiles climbed the spacious, open stairway, yawning as he went. He was still suffering from jetlag and his inner clock was messed up. Peter was coping far better with the time differences and slept like a stone at night, while Stiles laid awake and tried to ignore the box calling for him from the attic.

He stretched his muscles that were still sore from the 18 hour trip from Europe back to California that had exhausted him despite the fact that they had travelled first class and experience all the comfort one could ask for and entered their master bedroom with a sigh.

It was, without a doubt, the most beautiful room in the entire house. Two of the four walls were entirely made of glass and overlooked the surrounding forest. It felt as if they were sleeping in the middle of the trees and at night, everything was illuminated by silver moonlight.

Their California king offered a beautiful view right across the small clearing of their backyard to the spring that ran through the preserve. When they had first moved in here, Stiles had spent hours sitting on their bed as he enjoyed the view.

But today, he barely glanced out of the window and instead shuffled his way to their walk-in closet that was dominated by Peter’s wardrobe. The man owned enough clothes to fill multiple malls and it was just another part of his husband Stiles both loved and found incredibly exasperating.

He changed into a pair of sweatpants and one of his dad’s old police academy T-Shirts that hadn’t fit his father for years now. Stiles tossed his discarded clothes into the hamper because seeing dirty laundry on the floor was one of Peter’s pet peeves, before he left their closet again.

Just as he he was about to go back downstairs, his eyes flickered to their bed and he stopped in his tracks. The warded chest sat on top of the duvet, looking innocent and threatening all the same. Stiles hesitated, torn between marching into the living room to scold Peter for trying to tempt him and giving in to his curiosity.

After a moment of indecision, he slowly inched towards the bed and crawled on the mattress. He stared at the wooden chest, before he allowed his fingers to wander over the broken latch. The wards welcomed his touch with warm humming and murmured greetings, and he shuddered at the powerful magic that met his own.

Slowly, he opened the heavy top and it and stared at the yellowed envelopes until he finally took out a stack of letters that were tied together by an old, worn out string. He opened the knot and carefully put the letters on the mattress, pushing the chest that was still filled to the brim with envelopes aside, to read the first one.

He opened the envelope and took out a thin, wrinkled piece paper. It looked like it came from a college notebook, slightly torn at one edge where it had been ripped out of a notebook and the writing on it was spindly and scratchy with smudged ink and small doodles at the corners.

Stiles took a deep breath, then he began reading.

_Leander,_

_stop leaving me notes in my locker. And stop leering at me in class. It’s already hard enough to concentrate knowing you’re in the same room as me. I don’t know how you manage to weasel yourself out of detention, but Mrs. Cane hates me and if she notices that I don’t pay attention, I’ll have to stay after school.  
And you will have to find yourself someone else who’s willing to meet you behind the bleachers!_

_And no, this isn’t some hint to get you to slip notes into my pockets again. I still don’t know how you managed to do that without me noticing._

_See you after school,_

_Your Hero._

Stiles lowered the piece of paper with a slight frown. Who was Leander? And who named their kid Hero? Even more confused than at the beginning, Stiles picked up the next letter and started to read.

_“My ~~dear~~ Leander,_

_I hate your parents for buying you that V-neck. If I hear another girl swoon about how great you look in it and how they want to ask you out on a date, I’ll throttle her._

_~~You’re mine, I don’t want others to~~ _

_Your ego is already too big, having half the school fall for you isn’t healthy._

_I heard my parents talk about how they won’t be home this weekend. Do you want to come over? My sister will be going with them and I have the house to myself. You won’t even have to sneak through the window this time. You can stay over if you want, I know your parents won’t be home either and I’m sure you can slip out without your sister noticing._

_I can’t wait to see you again._

_Your Hero._

_P.S: wear that damn V-neck. It suits you.”_

Suddenly, he realized what he was holding in his hands. These weren’t just letters; they were love letters. His throat tightened and his heart jumped in his chest as he opened the next envelope and unfolded the letter.

_“My dear Leander,_

_I’m sorry for everything I said to you. I didn’t mean it, I was just so angry to see you dance with Susan Peters. I know you only asked her so your parents wouldn’t keep bothering you about who you’re meeting when you sneak out of the house and if you hadn’t danced with her she would’ve been upset, but it still hurt._

_I wanted to ask you if you would dance with me behind the gym, somewhere nobody would see us, but then I got so jealous that I just left. I know it’s my fault, we talked about this before… I just wanted to dance with you, right there in that smelly old gym without having to worry about what other people think or who might see us._

_I’ll be waiting for you behind the gym after your basketball practice ends._

_Your sorry excuse of a ~~boyf~~ friend,_

_Hero”_

Swallowing tightly, Stiles traced the dried ink with his thumb, before he stuffed the envelopes back into the chest, closed it tightly and picked it up. With the box under his right arm, he stomped downstairs and into the living room, where his husband was still sipping wine.

“That was quick.” The wolf noted with one arched eyebrow, but Stiles couldn’t find any humour in the situation. He sat the box down on the coffee table with a loud thud and crossed his arms over his chest accusingly.

“Why did you show these to me, Peter?” He asked tightly and his husband sighed.

“Stiles, I knew that you wouldn’t be able to leave this matter be. In a week from now, you would’ve snuck into the attic and read them while I wasn’t at home. Then you would’ve felt guilty and perhaps misunderstood the letters and I wouldn’t have been home to explain to you that they mean nothing and are just a few nostalgic memories of the past.” The beta explained and Stiles bit his lip, clearly torn.

He could understand Peter’s reasoning, but he still didn’t like the fact that his husband kept a chest full of love letters in their attic.

“Peter, these are _love letters_.” He urged and ran a hand through his hair.

The wolf frowned slightly and lowered his wine glass. “Are you bothered by them?” His voice was confused. “Stiles, these are just memories from my teenage years, you don’t have to worry about me harbouring feelings for someone else. You’re my mate, nothing else matters.”

Stiles gawked at Peter’s nonchalance. “Peter, these clearly matter. This chest is warded to hell and back, don’t try to tell me that they’re nothing.” He hissed. “How can you trust me with them? They’re so important to you, what if I had gotten jealous and destroyed them?”

To his anger, Peter simply chuckled. “My dear, don’t forget how well I know you. You would never destroy anything that could be somewhat important to me. These letters are part of my past, something nobody except me, Hero and now you know about.”

A sudden warmth spread through Stiles’ chest because this was once again a sign of how much Peter trusted him, but he quickly stomped it down. “Peter, I know I never asked about your relationships before we got together, but this doesn’t just sound like the letters of some high schooler would write their first boyfriend. Why are they so important?”

Stiles could see the second Peter lost his bravado. The wolf’s eyes flickered to the chest in Stiles lap and his lips twisted into a sad smile. “Because he was my first mate.” The beta explained gently, voice calm and serious.

“Your first mate?” The spark whispered, overwhelmed with emotions. There was anger, anger because Peter had never told him that he had another mate, jealously because his wolf could love someone else just as much or even more than he loved Stiles, insecurity because what if he was just Peter’s second choice and curiosity because everything he had read said that wolves only had one mate, someone who was pre-destined to be theirs and who could never be replaced by anybody else.

“Yes. He was my mate before Derek slashed my throat. Now, you are. I was attracted to you the moment we first met in the hospital, but after my resurrection my wolf was obsessed with you and I quickly realized that you were mine.” Peter explained carefully. “You don’t have to be jealous of him, I only want you, my dear. These letters are but an echo from the past, you’re my present and my future.” The promise in the man’s words mellowed Stiles and the jealousy and insecurity that had gnawed at him vanished into thin air.

_He_ was Peter’s mate, Peter had married _him_ , they would have a baby and spend the rest of their lives together. There was no reason why he should feel insecure or jealous because of a few letters.

“Why Hero? And why the name Leander? I know that your second name is Alexander, so don’t try to fool me.” Stiles asked and allowed his mate to pull him into his lap. Peter’s arms felt heavenly around him and he smiled when the wolf pressed a soft kiss to his throat.

“Because if anybody had found our letters and discovered who we were, it could’ve been the death of many innocent people. We didn’t know that all our efforts of secrecy were in vain.” Peter mumbled and Stiles’ eyes widened.

“Hero and Leander, the famous star-crossed lovers from ancient Greek mythology, who were doomed from the beginning and who lost their lives in the name of love. One of the first Romeo and Juliet themed stories in history.” His throat felt tight with the sudden realization that Peter’s first mate had to have been a hunter. “Peter, who was he?” He whispered and watched wide eyed as his wolf reached into the chest and pulled out a silver necklace.

Stiles closed his hands around the chain and inspected the round pendant in the centre of it. A wolfsbane flower was imprinted in the middle of it and his heart skipped a beat. He had seen this necklace before, worn not by a hunter but a huntress.

With shaking fingers, he turned the pendant in his fingers and felt as if he couldn’t breathe. The initials engraved into the stainless silver burned themselves into his mind.

_C.A._

Christopher Argent.

This was the same necklace Allison wore, the same necklace Kate and Geralt had worn, the same necklace every Argent was given at birth and that they would be buried with. Their family crest at the front, their initials at the back.

Peter’s first mate had been Christopher Argent, heir to one of the oldest hunter families in the world. No wonder they had considered themselves star crossed lovers. No wonder they never got their happy end.

**Author's Note:**

> StilI here? Liked it?
> 
> If yes, please consider leaving a comment, kudos, bookmark or maybe even subscribe to this fic.
> 
> And if you're new, please consider reading my other Steter works, maybe you'll find something else you'll like as well. I try to update regularily and don't worry, none of my works are abandoned!
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you'll read the next chapter as well!
> 
> (A little self promotion, if anybody is interested in The Witcher fandom as well and likes to read a Geralt/Jaskier story every now and then, check out my works there. Pseud is CertainlyNotRoach. And if you haven't heard of The Witcher so far, please take a look at the TV show, a shirtless Henry Cavill is a sight to behold.)


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